𝑵𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝑮𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑼𝒑ᴿᶦᶜᵏ ᴬˢᵗˡᵉʸ           ♥︎

⇄ ◁◁ I I ▷▷ ↻
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Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

When we pulled up to Gramps' house, I was in total awe of how big it was. My family and I lived in a quaint two-story house where we had to share rooms, but they had a three-story house that looked like a little dollhouse. It had green trim and beige paint, the house of my dreams. Ironically, I hated this town but loved the house.

When we walked in, it was even prettier inside, with floral wallpaper and mahogany floors. It was beautiful. Gramps showed me to my room, and it was really nice. It had a cute little loft bed, a window seat, and a perfect layout for my stuff. Plus, I had not one but two windows, which I loved. My room was at the back of the house, so I'd have privacy. It was perfect. (Insert room pic)

As I was unpacking, I noticed a boy riding up the street. He was short and looked about my age. I bolted to hide behind a bush and saw that he lived right next door. "Great," I muttered. "One of the Looney Tunes lives next door. How wonderful."

"What are you doing in there?"

I jumped. There was Charlie, in all his glory, standing there nonchalantly like he hadn't just ruined a perfectly good spying session.

"None of your business," I snapped. "Don't you have anything better to do than spy on me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "No, not really. Don't you have anything better to do than sit in a bush?"

I realized, to my horror, that I was still crouched in the bush. "Well, Charles," I said in my best fake British accent, "I do. Unlike you, I am a woman of dignity. I do not question why one might sit in a bush doing whatever thy is doing."

"That made no sense. Like, none at all."

"That's because you have no sense of bloody humor," I retorted as I pushed myself out of the bush. "Well, cheerio, dear brother!"

I flipped him off for good measure and stomped back inside.

After a few hours, I finally finished decorating my room. It was perfect. My Queen, David Bowie, Led Zeppelin, Beatles, and Madonna posters were all up, with my plants scattered around the room. Everything was just as it should be. With more space to move around, I decided to dance.

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert youuuu!"

(Ha! You just got Rickrolled. You're welcome.)

I was so into it that I didn't realize Percy was standing in the doorway, watching me in horror.

"Lily, what in the holy fuck are you doing?"

I froze, my face heating up. "I'm dancing. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"That was not dancing. That was... discombobulating your body. I don't think I can listen to Rick Astley without seeing that ever again."

"Haha, look who's got jokes now. Like you weren't screaming Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody like a dying cat choking on another dying cat choking on a hairball."

Percy gagged. "That was so graphic. Sometimes I think I'm the sister, and you're the brother. Anyway, someone's coming over."

"Why didn't you say that in the first fucking place?"

"Because I like wasting the time you don't have."

I flipped him off again and scrambled to change. Once I was done, I went downstairs to find out who was coming over. To my sheer horror, Short Dude was coming here with his mom.

I also found out his name was Edward, but I was told to call him Eddie. I don't know why they had to tell me his whole life story, but okay. I also found out that another dude's family was coming over—some guy named Henry. I think he's Florian's age; I don't know, and I don't care—I just really want to eat.

After an hour, I opened the door to a really tall man and a teenage boy with a mullet. He looked like the real-life reason why the saying teenage dirtbag was ever made. He smiled at me, and I politely smiled back. Then I noticed that the man behind him was a police officer. I almost pissed myself for a second, thinking he was going to arrest me for... on second thought, you don't want to know. So I politely opened the door for them to pass through, and they greeted my Gramps and Gram.

After a little bit, the doorbell rang. This time, it was a very large and tall woman (not fat-shaming) and a small boy who could only be Eddie. I politely let them in, and as I turned around, I saw Charlie, red as a tomato.

"So, Charles," I said smugly, "how do you feel about our new guest?" I asked in a knowing tone.

"Shut the fuck up, Lillian, or I swear I will break your skull."

Sheesh, someone's being a little aggressive. Bet he likes aggressive boys, I thought as I winked. Before he could say anything, I plopped myself down next to Gramps so that the only seat left for Charlie was the one next to Eddie. He gave me a stink eye as he begrudgingly sat down. I smiled innocently, as if my intentions were only to sit next to my dear, sweet Gramps.

If you haven't noticed, dear Charles is queer, and since the decade is old-fashioned, they don't really allow it. He hasn't come out yet, but I guessed it when he said Cyndi Lauper was the best music artist ever. It also showed when he started wearing my shorts... uuugg, anyway.

The conversation started, and everything was going great until Ms. Kasprack asked the most dreaded question: "Why are you the only redhead here, dear? I mean, all your siblings have brown hair or brownish blond hair, and you also seem to be the only girl too."

Just so you know, I hate when people ask me this question. I can't control my genes. "I don't know why, ma'am. Maybe it's because my grandaunt Maureen had orange hair, and I think it spilled into my genes, but that's all I know, ma'am. As for why I'm a girl, I frankly would love to be a boy."

The woman looked confuzzled.

"Well, dear, I understand. Rude of me to ask."

"Yes, yes, it was."

Florian choked on his water, Gramps looked as if he was about to have a heart attack, Charlie looked flabbergasted, and Eddie looked scared.

"Now, that's not how you talk to your elders."

"But ma'am, I was just agreeing with you. For example, if someone called themselves ugly and they were ugly, would you call them beautiful, or would you agree? That's simply what I was doing now. But if you were disrespected, I apologize."

Percy was on the floor crying tears as everyone looked at me in total awe.

"Well, it's fine."

"Wonderful. Now, could you pass me the salt, Charles?" I said this all in a very nonchalant way, like I hadn't just said the rudest thing ever. "Thank you."

For the rest of the night, everyone was quiet.

After everyone left, I got a strict talking-to and was sent to my room. That night, I thought about the next day. Seeing as it was my first day, I should be ready for torture at prison—I mean, a fun day at school.

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